


Mafia Heir Peter and Bodyguard Tony

by deltorafray



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bodyguard Tony Stark, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Mafia AU, Mafia heir Peter Parker, Mafia-typical violence, Mob Boss AU, One Shot, Oral Sex, Tony gets a blow job from the mob boss, based on tom holland's frankly illegal 2021 GQ photoshoot, mild gun kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:09:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29729514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltorafray/pseuds/deltorafray
Summary: Peter Parker is the new mob boss after his uncle, Benjamin Parker, passed, inheriting not only one of the largest criminal empires in the country, but also the loyal bodyguard, Tony Stark. Peter's not like his uncle though. He's just as clever and ruthless, but a little more spoiled, a little more bratty, and a hell of a lot prettier. And he always gets what he wants, including his bodyguard in his mouth.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 18
Kudos: 173
Collections: Mafia!Tony Stark Fics That I’ve Read





	Mafia Heir Peter and Bodyguard Tony

“The boy-king’s en route and he’s in a _mood_.” Steve’s voice is a tinny ring in Tony’s earpiece but the man’s tone is steady. Nothing too bad then.

Peter’s always in a mood after a phone call with his Aunt May who’s sequestered safely away in their holiday estate in Sicily. It’s the kind of mood where he gets a little brash and hot-headed, hungry to prove himself a true Parker man, heir to the great and late Benjamin Parker’s criminal empire.

Tony hears footsteps and he straightens up, eyes fixed on the half dozen or so men cowering before him, ready to strike if any of them so much as twitches in the direction of their approaching boss.

The heavy wooden doors burst open and Peter Parker walks in, his strides long and confident. He pays no attention to the other people in the room and heads straight towards Tony, throwing his arms around the older man.

“To-ony,” Peter sighs, dragging out the syllable in his bodyguard’s name.

Now that Steve is in the room with them, Tony feels a bit safer directing his full attention to the slender and beautiful creature draped over his body.

Peter drags Tony down for a kiss, sweet and filthy. Tony lets Peter’s lips dominate him, allowing a soft wet tongue to invade into his mouth. Peter lets out a pleased hum but Tony doesn’t let himself be lulled into a false sense of security. The young man won’t stay pleased for long.

When Peter finally pulls away, Tony takes in the sight of his lover, so pretty, yet so dangerous. His expensive, silk shirt is half open, revealing the gold chain around his neck, resting on his smooth, bare chest.

Peter runs his hands down Tony’s shirt, palms warm through the fabric. He’s got his uncle’s signet ring, worn on his index finger since it’s too big for his slim, elegant fingers. Peter’s own signet ring adorns the pinky finger of his other hand, a more streamlined, demure version of his uncle’s ring.

Tony uses his thumb to wipe away a slight trace of white powder on the soft skin right above Peter’s pink lips. Tony notices the way Peter’s eyes have that slightly wild glint to them, betraying the coke that’s streaming in the blood vessels right behind them.

That phone call must have been rougher than usual. Oh, Tony can’t wait until this whole ordeal is over and let Peter take out his frustrations on him.

Peter sighs again, a heavier sound this time. He reluctantly lets go of his bodyguard and turns to scrutinize the group of people who are awaiting his judgment. He goes over and sits at his chair – more like a throne, really – and leans back on it with a bored look on his face. Steve stands on his left while Tony stands on his right, his captain and his guard.

Tony snaps his fingers and one of the men steps forward on shaky legs. Clayton. He even _looks_ like a rat with his beady little eyes and dusty-brown hair.

“So what I don’t get is,” Peter says without preamble, eyes narrowing coldly at him, “how come an entire truckload of my heroin is gone and yet you’re standing here in front of me without a single fucking scratch on you.”

Clayton opens and closes his mouth like a fish but no sounds come out. He’s starting to form beads of sweat on his pasty forehead.

Peter tilts his head back towards his captain. “Steve?”

“Drone footage shows him fleeing from the scene when the carjackers hit, boss,” Steve replies.

Peter groans, rolling his eyes at Clayton. “God, you’re embarrassing. Did you hand over the keys to them too? Maybe open the door for them like a good little valet? Fucking Christ, man.” Peter lifts an arm without looking and Steve hands the boss his gun, a pretty little Colt 1911 with nickel plating and carved ivory handle, gorgeous and dangerous just like its owner. Tony’s gut clenches in anticipation.

Clayton starts blubbering when he sees it. “Sir, they came out of nowhere, there was nothing I could do, I-”

_Blam._

Peter shoots him in the kneecap and Clayton crumples onto the floor, screaming with that grating voice of his.

Peter leans forward. “Literally all you had to do was drive. I trusted you with my product and you fucking _lost_ it. Who’s gonna pay for that, huh? Are _you_ gonna get it back?”

Tony isn’t distracted, not really. But he’s got eyes and he’s fully capable of doing his bodyguarding duty while simultaneously admiring the way Peter looks when he’s leaning forward on his throne like that, elbows rested on his knees with his gun held loosely in one hand, oversized shirt falling open at the chest and letting the gold chain dangle through the open collar. Peter’s like a spider, small but deadly.

“Please, sir,” Clayton sobs, clutching his bloody knee. “I’ll do anything. I’ll make it right. I’ll-”

“He won’t be able to do anything with that bum leg you’ve given him, boss,” Steve comments.

Peter snorts. “You’re right. This is a waste of my goddamn time.” He points his gun at Clayton’s head. The man’s pleadings grow louder and more incomprehensible until the trigger is pulled. _Blam_.

Tony’s cock twitches at the sound of Peter’s gun. His baby’s a stone-cold killer and it makes his blood run hot.

Peter continues to aim his gun at the remaining men in the room, pointing at each one of them, peering down the barrel with one eye closed. They cower and tremble before him but otherwise make no sound, silent as their dead comrade.

Tony notices with only a tiny bit of relief that Peter’s finger isn’t curled around the trigger. As arousing as it would be to watch Peter slaughter them all, such wanton bloodlust isn’t really becoming of a mafia leader, not one befitting of the Parker name anyway. Benjamin raised Peter to be clever, not careless.

There’s a palpable release of tension in the room when Peter finally puts down his gun, clicking on the safety.

“I want my stuff back,” Peter orders them, voice firm, leaving no room for dissent or failure. They all murmur their compliance amidst warbles of gratitude for being allowed to live. Peter nods, dismissing them. “And take your friend with you. You’re already cleaning up his goddamn mess. Might as well start now.”

The men shuffle out as quickly as they can, carrying the dead body with them.

Before they’re even out of the room, though, Peter tilts his head back and pouts at his bodyguard. “To-onyy,” he whines in a sing-song voice.

Steve glances at Tony with a small smile, a silent _good luck, buddy_ in his eyes. He knows how the boss gets after days like this. Unless Peter gets his dose of Tony after a hard day of work, he’s going to be an absolute nightmare to the rest of the household. Steve shoves the straggling men out of the room and closes the door behind him, leaving Tony and Peter alone.

Once there are no more eyes on them, Tony allows himself to reach out to Peter, carding his fingers through his lover’s wavy brown hair, tugging his head back to look up at him.

“What can I do for you, baby?” Tony murmurs, gazing down at the boy-king sprawled on his throne. While it’s ‘sir’ or ‘boss’ or ‘Mr. Parker’ everywhere else, it’s always ‘baby’ behind closed doors. “Still feeling high?”

“Barely was to start with,” Peter grumbles. From his seated position, his head is level with Tony’s crotch and he reaches up to touch the bulge there with the hand still holding his gun. “I wanna get high on something else.” Peter traces the outline of Tony’s erection with the barrel of his gun.

Tony shivers imperceptively, lust coursing through him at the heady danger of it all. He’s fully hard now, hard as the murder weapon that’s pressing on him. “Mmm, why don’t you give me the gun and I’ll put something else in your hand you can point and shoot.”

Peter looks up at him with pretty brown eyes that shouldn’t look so innocent and doe-like on someone so powerful and deadly. Holding eye contact, Peter leans in and runs a wet, pink tongue down the barrel of his gun that’s still resting on Tony’s hard-on. When he reaches the tip of the barrel, Peter slides his lips to Tony’s crotch, mouthing over the aching bulge through the fabric of his pants.

Tony hisses at the warm, wet sensation seeping through. Peter lets the older man slip the gun out of his hands to be put away somewhere safe. With both hands free now, Peter unclasps Tony’s pants to get at his cock, moaning hungrily when he finally gets those pink lips wrapped around the hard length.

Tony throws his head back and groans, fingers digging into Peter’s hair. It never fails to astonish him that he gets to feel Peter’s hot mouth on him like this on the regular. Peter Parker is the wealthiest, most powerful crime lord on the Eastern seaboard and he lets Tony – and _only_ Tony – stuff his cock in him at both ends, lets him spill his seed in him and all over him.

The rush of power the older man feels when he has Peter like this is more intoxicating than any recreational substance the drug lord can offer him. To be favoured so sweetly by the boy-king, to have everyone in the family know that _he’s_ the one who warms the royal bed every night, that _he’s_ the one who gets to feel how tightly Peter’s body clenches around him.

Peter moans around the cock in his mouth, bobbing his head as he swirls his tongue up and around Tony’s shaft. Those hands, those deadly killer hands that wrap so beautifully around the handle of a gun are now wrapped around the length of Tony’s cock. Tony is Peter’s weapon just as his gun is, ready to use however he pleases.

Tony’s been in service to the Parker family for decades now, but to be in service for Peter like this is the greatest, most exhilarating duty he’s ever done.

**Author's Note:**

> this is a one-shot for now but i have vague plans about maybe possibly expanding this into a multi-chapter thingy (a bit further down the list though, so nobody hold their breaths). so you get to have this for now and if/when i get to integrating this scene into a full fic, i'll probably delete it. but until then it'll stay up here.


End file.
